In American English you would say "I went toward the light" in British English they would say "I went towards the light"

This one has annoyed me since high school. 

I write like I speak, and I say towards, forwards and backwards, so I write those words as well.  Maybe it's a southern dialect thing? My family is all old Louisiana  preachers and teachers, maybe something stuck.

I'm not sayin' I'd let it keep me from getting published, but I'd at least arm-wrestle an editor over it.

Interesting. 

I have to admit, I'm torn.  I love classic good vs evil stories, but like a bit of grit as well. I found Stover's second book to be completely captivating and was left wanting more, but sometimes I read a modern fantasy and feel like I need a shower. I also get really tired of the soap opera in so much fantasy (loved the "Tolkien 90210" tag in Gin's article). I couldn't make it through another Anita Blake novel if you paid me.

To extend a bit to other genres, I am baffled by my love of Dexter--books and TV.  I simultaneously don't get it and can't get enough of it. Why do I root for a serial killer and cheer when a cop gets blown up?  It makes no sense, but it is what it is, and I am a fan.

In the end, I guess there's room for all. I'll read what I like, avoid what i don't, and let others do the same.

I'm a big wolf guy.

I adopted a wolf hybrid puppy (7/8 black timber wolf) many years ago, and he was my only real companion for several years until his death. If you've spent time with one you know that wolves, even mix breeds, are just different.  It wasn't an owner-pet relationship, or anything else you've experienced. I'm not very touchy-feely, and I'm no hippie, but it was a bond that defied description. Probably more than anything else in my life, it prepared me for the way I feel about my children. Maybe that's what all alphas feel toward their pack, but it was something that was new for me. Something that the relationship with him brought out in me. It's never really gone away.

Its been fifteen years since I buried him, but I still smile when I think of him and I still cry when I think of him dying alone.

I love Bubba Hotep. Don't care who knows it. 

I don't get it.  What's so funny?

My chapters seem a little short. They seem to end up around 1800 to 2000 words each. In my mind they wrap up OK and I don't really feel they're incomplete, but I'm curious about reader response. 

Have you inished book one yet?